


Egg boiler of Doom

by Rafun



Series: My Muse [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:24:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rafun/pseuds/Rafun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is about my Muse, who has some issues. Seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Egg boiler of Doom

An importunate knocking at the door woke the Muse from her brooding.

“Yes?”, she called, annoyed, and the door opened seemingly at its own. The Muse looked up. “Hello?” she asked and added: “Get a move on. I’m busy!”

A bell jingled and a big, fat toad jumped in her running wheel. Jumping wheel, to describe the construction more accurately. The movement triggered  a complicated mechanism and caused the Muse to heave a sigh. “Look, just tell me what’s the problem and be done with it. I’ve got a lot of things to do.”

“Lots of things to do indeed,” piped a soft voice and a tiny jelly bag cap appeared at the edge of the desktop. The toad made another jump and with a jerk a face appeared, then a lurid pink jacket, followed by the rest of the goblin as it should be, in brown leather trousers.

“What do you want, Rosepetal?” the Muse asked, and wrinkled her nose. Rosepetal smelled more like ammoniac than roses. Besides that, he was from quality-inspection, and that was always bad.

“Those new techno-spiders, Madam –“

“Which spiders. We’ve got lots of spiders. Do you mean the giant spiders, pet spiders, nightmare-spiders, dried spiders, flying spiders, common house-spiders, daddy longlegs, or…”

“Techno-spiders, Madam. The new ones, you know.”

The Muse screwed her forehead. Did she know?

“Techno spiders. Rather big ones, who do photosynthesis? Live from sunlight, hide in the sand at night?”

“Oh, those,” the Muse sighed. “Techno-spiders. Why didn’t you say?”

“I did. Anyway, Madam, that doesn’t work. We can’t send those. We’ve tried everything, we even painted them to stop them from changing color. But the paint keeps peeling off and then they just go on, flashing and changing color. Doesn’t work.”

“And why not?” the Muse asked.

“It’s ridiculous, Madam. Seriously, we can’t do that. We’ve got an reputation to uphold. Spiders have to be ugly. And nasty. And vicious, and poisonous. Who wants spiders that change colors like a rainbow, shine like the moon, and fear the dark?”

“The same people that want spiders that do photosynthesis. The same people, precisely, that will soon invent the egg-boiler of doom, including soft-boiled doom and…”

“Okay, okay, I got it. If you think so… it’s your job, not mine. How do you want us to package the beasts? Paper is lightproof, they diminish and shrink if we put them in carton. What if they starve on the way?”

“Just put holes in the boxes,” the Muse tried to wave him off. What she was wasting her time with again…

But the gnome hopped from one foot onto the other and stared down at the desk. Well, he didn’t have to stare down very far.

“We tried that, Madam. That doesn’t work. If the holes are too small, they starve, and if they get enough light, they run away.”

“Then be creative,” the Muse snapped. “What am I paying you for, anyway? Just send them with a dessert, there’s always lots of light in those!”

The gnomes blinked, then in a wide grin bared a set of teeth that certainly could have been the reason for the strange smell filling the room. “I knew you’d find a solution, Madam,” he squealed excited and hopped back onto the little elevator platform. “One more thing – when does Ferdinand come back? This toad just doesn’t work.”

“Ferdinand will be back as soon as he has found an elf for me who doesn’t like trees,” the Muse said sharply. “And if you don’t get out of here fast you can help him.”

“Already gone,” the gnome hurried to assure her, and rang the bell. The toad jumped and the gnome was off the desk.

The Muse sighed and waited until the gnome had left the room completely. There was a good reason for her mood that day: It was round, had a diameter of about eight inches and space for exactly six eggs quality grade A. It was also made of pure gold and ticked threateningly. She’d worked six weeks on it, and now?

Nobody wanted it. Everything was needed, heroes, wizards, speaking heads, wands, all kinds of terrible monsters… Even techno-spiders, which changed colors. They hadn’t been her idea, after all. Well, of course they had been her idea. A nice idea, wasn’t it? Something different, right? But her best ideas were never valued. Just like the toad. Wasn’t it a great concept, a toad instead of a hamster to turn a running wheel. But the gnomes just wouldn’t stop fussing about it. One of them had even been sick, apparently because the elevator was jerking so much nowadays. And now nobody wanted her egg-boiler of doom. He didn’t fit any labyrinth and no dragon wanted to look after it, ungrateful beasts.

With a sigh the Muse stared out of the window and whit the view of the fish at the sky an idea came to her. She found herself an empty thought, forgot thoughtfully to write a name onto it, and threw the package through the open window. Satisfied with herself she waited for the thought to arrive on earth. Some human would be able to make something with it. Somehow, humans made something of everything she dropped out of her window.


End file.
